


And Then Us

by rowofstars



Series: And Then You [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: All the tags just in case, Angst, Character Study, Crossover Pairings, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Flashbacks, Fluff, Humor, Introspection, PWP without Porn, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-12 21:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Rush and Lacey and their life after the events of And Then You.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is where i'm going to put all the follow up stuff and all the TMI Tuesday stuff. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For melissabosquez (theherothechampiontheinquisitor on Tumblr) who asked how Lacey was liking California. I think she's liking it just fine. ;)

Lacey stretches languidly on the bed, the pale blue cotton sheet slipping down over her chest as she arches her back, stopping just below her navel. “Why do you have to leave again?”

Rush pulls his jeans up over his hips and stops, leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped. He cocks an eyebrow at Lacey and reaches for his shirt. It’s a bit more wrinkled than when he first tried to put it on this morning.

“Because I have, as you put it, impressionable young minds to subject to my unique brand of misanthropy,” he says, slipping is arms in the sleeves and buttoning the cuffs. “Hopefully they’ll even learn something along the way, since that’s what they’re paying tuition for.”

“It’s only the first day,” she says with a roll of her eyes. Then she frowns. “You’re going to give them a pop quiz, aren’t you.”

There’s no hint of a question there and he shrugs, smiling. “Wasn’t planning on it, but that’s not a bad idea. A bit survival of the fittest, weed out the weak.”

She sighs and shakes her head, watching him button up this shirt. 

“So how are you liking California?” Rush asks, smiling. His fingers stop at the base of his throat, leaving the top two buttons undone. His eyes are fixed on her the whole time as his hands drop to his jeans, and she licks her lips before sitting up.

The sheet falls away from Lacey’s naked body as she pushes up on her knees and crawls on the bed towards him. He sucks in a breath and stops dressing, the sight of her making his cock twitch even though they just made love an hour ago.

“I like what I’ve seen of California so far,” she says. “I _really_ like what I’m seeing right now.”

Rush smirks as she runs her fingers down the row of buttons to the waistband of his boxers. “Oh? Well, you haven’t seen very much. Just the airport, my car, and the house.”

He doesn’t call it my house, and it’s sort of on purpose. He’s been thinking a lot in the last 48 hours about maybe living somewhere else. Somewhere with Lacey preferably.

“Mmm,” she hums before pressing a soft kiss to the triangle of skin framed by the open collar of his shirt. "I like all of it."

He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I really do have to go, love.” 

Lacey sighs and rolls her eyes as she flops back on the bed. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m terribly un-fun,” he agrees, “as about 40 students are about to find out.”

His grin makes her laugh, and everything - the sound, her, the sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting the room in a warm, happy glow - is so damn tempting. But as much as he’d love to spend the day in bed with Lacey French, he really does have to go to class. Mal would have his balls if he canceled or skipped barely two weeks into the new semester.

She calls out a quick _‘love you’_ as he turns to leave, and he stops. “And tell your friend Mal I said ‘hi,’” she adds, as she moves to get out of the bed.

Rush frowns as she pulls her t-shirt over her head, and then wraps an arm around her waist when she reaches his side. “Why?”

She smiles. “Because she’s the reason I’m here.” Then she pushes up on her toes to give him a soft, lingering kiss with a little lick of her tongue over his bottom lip, promising so much more when he returns home. 

He makes a low, humming noise at the back of his throat, seriously considering if he could call in sick and marveling at the notion that he would even consider it. That’s how far fucking gone he is for Lacey French. 

He kisses her again and squeezes her against his side. “I’ll tell her.”

But she’s not wrong. If Mal hadn’t sent him packing to the other side of the country, he wouldn’t be here, and he wouldn’t have Lacey. He’s not sure there’s a combination of flowers, candies, or dinner that can thank someone for helping to fix your life and find love again. _Fuck._ As he makes his way down the stairs and out the door to his car, he wonders how many published papers and research grants he’s going to have to put out to even begin to thank her. 

And then it occurs to him that maybe Mal would settle for him not being such a fucking bastard for a while. He’s sure he can manage that for, oh, a semester. Or at least until Thanksgiving break.

Midterms for sure.

_Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several people asked: "Why did Lacey's husband end up in jail?" This is that story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for domestic violence and descriptions thereof. This is super angsty. Sorry. :(

Lacey looks out at the garden and sighs.

It’s peaceful out here, even if there are a lot more people and cars and things than Storybrooke. In California she feels like she can breathe, like the weight of life isn’t dragging her down. But she knows it can’t last, not right now. There are things she still has to do and she doesn’t know how to tell Nick just yet. She’s not sure he’ll really understand, though he might say he does.

The breeze scatters some leaves and lifts her hair, sending it waving over her shoulder, and she smiles. Autumn was always her favorite season, and it seems to be coming in fast this year. She picks up her phone and checks the weather, her smile widening as she sees it’s supposed to rain tonight. She’s looking forward to a good storm and a night in, a chance to forget how the last storm went.

She sets the phone down on the step next to her and swallows, rubbing absently at her cheek.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There’s a condom in the bathroom trash bin.

Lacey curses to herself as she hurries off the couch, backing away as Garrett comes towards her holding the offending bin in his hand. It’s a cheap, plastic thing with daisies on it, something she picked up at Clark’s store years ago. Garrett wasn’t supposed to be home until Saturday, and here the asshole is on a Thursday. Rush was supposed to come over tonight and she hasn’t had a chance to call him.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, holding it out so she can see the offending prophylactic. It’s a bit yellowed after sitting there for a day.

She’s mentally kicking herself as she shakes her head. She meant to take out the trash this morning but Rush had stayed the night. Waking up with his face between her legs made her forget a lot of things, including the jerk to whom she is unfortunately married. 

“Used one on my dildo,” she says, trying to keep a straight face. “Ribbed for _her_ pleasure, you know.” 

It will probably only piss him off, hearing that she used one of her toys while he was away, or hearing that she had toys at all, but it’s better than telling him she’s fucking the professor renting the Vincents’ old house. Maybe a part of her wants to piss him off, maybe she’s tired of all the pretending.

Garrett lowers the trash can to his side and scoffs. “Right. Except this one’s filled with cum.”

She swallows and wraps her arms tighter around her, squeezing her arms.

“Who did you fuck, Lace?”

She starts to shake her head, her eyes darting towards the apartment door.

His expression shifts in an instant and the trash can comes flying towards her. She ducks and rolls to the side, wincing as the bin hits the side table. The lamp crashes to the floor, and the sound of the ceramic shattering makes her feel sick. She sits up on the floor and her legs scramble, pushing her backwards until she hits the wall. Garrett stalks towards her, his boots heavy and thudding, spit flying from his lips as he shouts names at her. 

_Useless. Worthless. Whore._

The voice in her head is screaming for her to run, to get to the door, to get away, but she curls in on herself and puts a hand up as his fist fills her vision.

It was always going to end like this, she figures.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lacey closes her eyes and shakes her head, swiping a hand across her cheek. Her fingers come away wet and she sniffles. Two hits were all Garrett got in before she’d noticed the piece of lamp on the floor. It was a wide, curved triangle of blue glazed ceramic. It bit into her palm when she grabbed it, but it was an easy pain to ignore.

One swing and his hand was bleeding. Two and he was holding the side of his face, blood oozing between his fingers as he screamed at her some more.

She’d held on to the shard of ceramic, holding it out in front of her like a knife. The next thing she knew she was in the back of Sheriff Graham’s car. The window was dotted with rain drops, blurring the scene as she watched the paramedics try to tend to Garrett’s wounds before he was taken to jail.

Everything she remembers about that day is in bits and pieces. The pain, the anger, the fear. Her throat raw from yelling, her hand throbbing from where the piece of the lamp had cut her. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, just a small row of butterfly bandaids and some antiseptic.

She doesn’t remember Garrett taking a swing at the sheriff, but she wishes she did. Will, one of the paramedics, told her about how Graham had spun the asshole around and slammed him face down on the hood of his car. It didn’t matter if she did or didn’t want to press charges, which she absolutely fucking did for once, Garrett had tried to assault a police officer. That was good for a couple nights in jail before his dad came up from Boston to bail him out.

Rush had been there at some point. She remembers a flash of him, across the street by the hardware store, the rain making him look like a sad, wet rat. She hadn’t had a chance to call him and tell him that Garrett was home. He’d come over as planned and found a crime scene, found the fucking mess that was her life instead of the casual sex he’d probably expected. She’d blinked and he was gone. 

Part of her wanted him to come to her, part of her was glad he stayed away.

She had blamed him for a while, during the worst days, the ones right after and the week he left. But it wasn’t really about Rush. It was always Garrett’s fault. Hers too for not doing what she should have done sooner, for thinking things would change or that maybe she deserved it. 

That was bullshit she was still working on.

She blinks and everything’s blurred again, reminding her of that day. Except her hand and face don’t hurt and there isn’t a shoe-shaped bruise on her side. Her left hand flexes, still feeling a bit odd without her ring. Odd, but better.

Through the screen door she hears the sound of a car followed by the solid thud of the front door.

“Lacey?” Rush calls out.

She rubs her hands over her eyes and down her face, grateful she decided to forgo makeup this morning. Then she stands and goes inside the house.

“Here,” she says, as the screen door snaps shut behind her.

Rush turns away from the stairs and smiles crookedly at her through the kitchen doorway. “Hey.”

She moves to stand by the island and gives him a small smile in return, feeling a little flutter of nerves. “Hey.”

He sets his satchel on the counter and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Lacey shakes her head and presses her lips together. She can feel her chin quivering right as a fresh set of tears dribble down her cheeks. Rush is in front of her in a second, his hands cupping her face.

“Lacey,” he says, tipping her head back so he can look at her. “Tell me, love.”

She wraps her arms around him, turning her face into his shirt for a moment to collect herself. When she looks up at him again, he looks like he’s going to fall apart too, and she can’t have that so she kisses him. He doesn’t react at first, his arms still a bit tense around her, but she needs this, needs him.

It’s the only way she can forget about what she’s going to have to do, how she’s going to leave, and it all might fall to pieces again.

Her tongue slides over his lips, and he opens to her, licking into her mouth. She moans and tastes coffee and a little bit of the salt from her tears. It takes a moment, but then Rush is kissing her like she's the only damn thing left to kiss in the whole damn world, like he's drowning and she can save him somehow. She know she can’t, despite what he’s said. 

The little voice is not so little anymore, it’s practically screaming in her head that this is a disaster that they’ll never going to recover from. She needs to tell him soon, needs to pack and plan and call Ruby to make sure there’s a room for her. She ignores it for now because Rush’s hands are on her ass, pulling her against him.

He finally breaks the kiss, pushing her back a bit so he can ask her again what’s wrong.

“Shut up,” she manages.

Lacey slants her mouth over his and pushes him backwards into the edge of the island. He grunts as he hits the hard marble, then lets out a low groan when she palms the front of his jeans. He doesn’t say anything after that, just lets her steer him to the sofa in the living room. The lumpy old thing has seen a fair bit of action in the month she’s been here, and if they go upstairs he might start talking again or she might sink back into her thoughts and lose this desperate need building inside her.

She's shaking as she undoes the buttons on his shirt, but he doesn’t help, just lets her work through it, his hands on her thighs and mouth at her neck. He pulls a raspy sound out of her with his teeth as she’s yanking the shirt from his jeans and sliding her hand over his chest. She pulls back long enough to remove her t-shirt, and grins when he discovers she’s not wearing a bra. It felt like too much effort this morning when she wasn’t planning to leave the house.

His hands come up over the smooth skin of Lacey’s belly, then her ribs, until his thumbs are brushing the underside of her breasts. And there’s a part of her that’s really hoping he’ll understand, that they can make it all work, and another part that’s wondering when he’ll come to his senses and put an end to this. 

Even though she’s ignoring the voice in her head, she still knows this is a mess, that it can’t work between them. Rush could fuck her with all the love and care in the world, leave her boneless and whimpering once again, a sated, happy mess, but tomorrow will just be a bigger disaster than today. No matter what they makes of this, no matter how hard she tries, no matter how much she wants it, it’ll always end the same way. He says he loves her, and she knows without a doubt that she loves him, but somehow it doesn’t seem like enough with that voice in her head, calling back all the things Garrett ever yelled at her. 

She can’t say some of it isn’t true.

They finally get their clothes off, after he’s left a mark on her neck and another on her breast. Lacey pushes him back on the sofa and straddles him, wasting no time in fucking him fast and hard. He says her name and she dares to meet his eyes, to see the lust and warmth and love there. 

She falters, almost falling off of him in her effort to stem the tears, and Rush sits up, managing to keep his cock inside her. His arms come around her, holding her close as he starts to rock, his knees pushing into the couch cushions.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into his neck, moaning immediately after as he pushes deep and a tingle of pleasure ripples through her.

He grunts and one hand comes up to her shoulders while the other holds her hips. “S’okay.”

Lacey presses herself against him, greedy for the warmth of his lean body. His hair brushes her neck with every movement, tickling a bit but grounding her in the moment at the same time. It isn’t as hard or fast as she first wanted, but the friction is perfect and she can feel every inch of him touching and stroking her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rush swears as he drags his lips along her jawline. “So good, Lace -” 

The rest is lost in a grunt and another curse, and she rolls her hips against his. Her fingers slide in his hair, scraping her nails over his scalp.

“Nick,” she gasps, tugging at his hair gently. She can feel that low coil of desire burning in her stomach, making her tighten around him. “Need -”

She cries out and he kisses her softly, shifting a bit and speeding up his thrusts.

“Tell me,” he whispers, pressing his lips to her neck and letting his tongue slip out to taste her and lick the sweat from her skin.

Lacey squeezes him tighter, her whole body starting to tense as her orgasm hovers just out of reach. “Fuck. I need - need you. Oh!”

He mumbles something she can’t make out, and then tips her backwards, pressing her into the sofa as he moves hard and fast. She cries out beneath him, shuddering before shattering, clenching around his cock and holding him to her with her whole body. He keeps thrusting into her and she feels him pulse, his body taut as his hips move against her. He pushes into her one last time and then drops down on his arms, pressing his body to hers. It’s a comfortable weight, a feeling she needs to help hold her together right now.

“Love you,” he says in between panting breaths. 

Tears spill from the corners of her eyes and Rush kisses them away, following the trail with his lips up to her temples. He looks down at her, his face tight despite the orgasms they just had. Because he knows and he can see it when he looks at her. She’s not good at hiding things from him.

Rush sighs and moves to the side, trying to make space on the narrow couch for them to lay. “Whatever it is, love, I’m here. Okay?”

“I know,” she answers weakly, nodding against his chest and trying to make herself believe it.

Lacey curls into him, savoring the feeling of his arms around her, his heart thumping beneath her palm. There is no point in bringing up her leaving, not right now. Not when they both feel so good. Not when there are a few moments of happiness to be had. This is what it feels like to be safe, she thinks, to be wanted by someone. She’s not sure if she knows how to deal with that. She’s only ever been good at pushing people away, at breaking things. Including herself. 

She can only hope that when she’s done what she needs to do, when the past is finally behind her, he’ll be there to pick up the pieces.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacey goes back to Storybrooke for a little while to take care of some things. Towards the end of her trip, she calls Rush and they sort out a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings for this chapter. It's basically angst to setup the next parts which are almost entirely porn. ;)

Lacey looks away from Rush, turning her face into the breeze and letting it blow her hair back. Her eyes drift closed and the soft wind dries the tears caught in the corners.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says. “Not like this.”

She turns again and sighs heavily. “I _know_ , Nick.” His lips twitch and she gives him a look. “I know, okay? This is just -” She bites her lip and meets his eyes. It feels like they’re trying to stare through her, into her soul or something, and she has to look away or she’ll break down again. Crying is so fucking exhausting.

She owes it to him to look him in the eyes when she tells him. "This is something I have to do on my own.”

Rush nods but doesn’t say anything. There really isn’t anything he can say once Lacey has decided something. She’s as stubborn as he is; single-minded and determined. He both loves and hates that quality--in her and in himself. The more he tries to persuade her, the harder she will dig her very considerable heels in and resist.

They sit quietly for a little while, the tension that’s been between them since her minor breakdown a couple of days ago stretching thin and make them both uneasy. Part of him understands why she has to do this, but another part wonders if she’s ever coming back. Maybe he was just a way to escape for a little while, a pleasant diversion, and now that she’s had a taste of freedom she might want more. More than he can give her.

Lacey touches his shoulder and then slides down his arm to give his hand a brief, sharp squeeze. “I have to go. My flight leaves in two hours.”

He sighs and starts to reach for her hand again, but she’s already standing up so he lets it fall into his lap. “I could drive you.”

She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. “I called a cab earlier. I’ll be fine.”

He nods again and sighs, stretching his legs out over the bottom step and looking out into the garden. “Good luck.”

She worries her lip again, her hand reaching to curl into the hair at his nape. There are things she should say, assurances and promises she should make, but they don’t feel like things she can give Rush right now. 

She can’t even give them to herself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lacey sighs and flops down on the bed, tossing the damp towel from her bath in the vague direction of the bathroom. The TV is on but she isn’t paying attention to it. The newsman drones on about Brexit, and then something about an earthquake somewhere in the world. It’s all too depressing and she can’t bring herself to care, not when she has her own shit to deal with. She finds a Law and Order rerun on the next channel which is good enough for background noise, and drops the remote on the nightstand.

She’s been in Storybrooke for almost two weeks, which is a lot less time than she thought it would take, thanks to Midas. The whole thing feels strange, and she thinks she might finally understand the phrase _‘you can’t go home again.’_ It hasn’t been long, but already she’s changed too much for this place.

Rolling onto her side, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table and checks her messages. There are none, and she rolls back to stare blankly at the TV, laying her phone on her chest. She texted Rush when she got to the airport in Boston, and when she arrived at Granny’s in her little rental car. Both times he took a while to reply with nothing more than a simple _‘okay.’_

The night before she had to go to court, she attempted some half-hearted apology, but his only reply was to tell her ‘do what you need to do.’ So she did. Now it’s almost over and she doesn’t know how she feels.

Well, she does know she misses him. A lot. The kind of _a lot_ that makes you feel like part of you is missing, like you’ve lost something you need to find again. She keeps turning around to tell him what’s on her mind or to make a funny quip about someone. Except he’s three thousand miles away and she can’t. Without Rush by her side, she feels restless in a way she hasn’t felt since her mother died. She loves him, and she kinda fucked up by not really telling him everything that was going on, by not telling him one last time how she feels. 

Lacey thinks about her mom, about the car accident, and about how in a split second someone is there with you and gone the next, She could have done that to Rush, and she sucks in a breath, her chest tight and aching. She stands and paces, holding her phone to her chest as she tries to calm herself. She doesn’t want to cry again, she did enough of that earlier today and all it did was give her a headache.

After a few minutes she feels like she can breathe again and stops moving. She looks at her phone and bites her lip as she sits back on the bed. Her thumb taps the screen a few times, and then pauses, hovering over the green call button. 

Time to rip the bandaid off.

The line on the other end rings for the fourth time and Lacey shifts nervously, the mattress squeaking beneath her. Just when she thinks it might roll to voicemail, the ringing stops and there’s a moment when she thinks she can hear him huff.

“Hey,” comes Rush’s voice.

She closes her eyes and exhales the breath she was holding, her lips wavering a little as she smiles to herself. It’s so good to hear his voice that for a moment she just closes her eyes and smiles at the soft brogue in her ear. “Hey.”

Rush licks his lips and leans back in his chair. It’s almost six in California, but he hasn’t left the office yet. He’s wanted to call or message her a hundred times, but every time he stopped himself. If she needed him or wanted him, she’d let him know. He wanted to let her work things out for herself, however long that took.

“How’s Storybrooke?” he asks lamely.

Lacey sighs on the other end. “Oh, you know,” she says, waving her hand as if he can see the posh accommodations at Granny’s. “The same as ever; small and boring.”

He smiles at that and starts fiddling with his dry erase marker, clicking the cap on and off. It feels good to hear her voice, to hear the soft sound of her breathing, and he swallows hard, not knowing what to say. It’s only been twelve days and yet it feels like months with so much distance between them.

“Did it - ?” he starts. “Did it, uh, go well?”

She shrugs like he can see her and settles back into the pile of pillows against the headboard. “Yeah, actually. Graham was there, and Ruby. Garrett wouldn’t even look at me while I testified, the fucking coward.”

“Good.” He grins a little , at knowing that Garrett Gaston might be scared of her. _As well he fucking should be, the bastard._

She takes a breath and rubs at her nose. “He got eight months, so that’s something. And two years probation or whatever.” Rush is silent, and she fidgets, picking at one of the rubbery buttons on the TV remote. “His dad was there.”

Rush’s eyebrows lift and he turns in his chair, facing the fading sunlight peeking through the blinds on his office window. “Oh? How did that go?”

Lacey laughs humorlessly. “Apparently he had no idea his son was a giant abusive asshole. So it went - strange, I guess? I don’t know, it was weird seeing him again after everything, you know?”

She won’t mention the money just yet, not until she has a plan.

“Yeah.” He nods to himself, remembering how it felt to see some of Gloria’s family again at her funeral, and how patronizing it all was despite their good intentions. “How’s Granny?”

“She was discharged from the hospital this afternoon,” Lacey replies, sighing. “Dr. Whale says it was just a minor cardiac event.”

Rush scoffs. “How the _fuck_ is any cardiac _event_ minor?”

She snorts and whatever tension there was between feels like it’s dissolving. “I have no idea, that’s just what he said. She has to take it easy for a few days, but Ruby is doing fine with the diner and stuff.”

“That’s good,” he says, twisting back and forth in his chair as he eyes the batch of exams on his desk. He has the weekend to grade them, but he’s not looking forward to another one alone.

“So what have you been up to?” she asks, finally breaking the not entirely uncomfortable silence.

Rush blows out a breath and clicks the cap of his marker loudly. “Not much. Keeping busy, you know.”

She bites at her lip and shifts the phone from one ear to the other. “Busy torturing your students and bugging Mallory?”

He lets out a short laugh, but he can sense something in her voice. It’s the same as before she left. There is something she wants to get out but she’s holding back. He’s guilty of it too, and one of them has to give if they’re going to get anywhere. Since he’s the reason she had to go back he reasons it ought to be him.

Rush sighs and lets his head drop back against the chair. “I miss you.”

Lacey presses her lips together and smiles. “Yeah?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, imagining the smile he can hear in her voice and hating every fucking mile between them. “You know I never realized how I was before,” he starts. “How - alone I was, I guess, until I came home yesterday. I had all these things to talk about, these things I wanted to tell you.” He sighs and smiles. “And you weren’t there.”

She blinks and tears spill down her cheeks. She sits up, her palm swiping across her face and coming away wet. “I’m sorry, Nick,” she manages between rather loud sniffles. “ _Shit._ I messed up, I know, I -”

Rush shakes his head and swallows against the lump in his throat. “Lace, don’t - don’t do that.” The sound of her sniffs and wet gasps makes his chest hurt all over again. “Come on, love, it’s all right.”

She huffs and slaps her hand down on the bed. “ _No_ , it’s not, Rush!” She shakes her head and rubs her eyes. “I fucked it all up. I’m such a-”

“No,” he interrupts. “Fuck - look you didn’t do anything of the sort, okay? Listen to me. _Please._ ”

Lacey sniffs again and leans over to pull two tissues out of a box on the nightstand. She dabs at her eyes and her nose, then crumples the soggy tissue and throws it towards the foot of the bed. “I should have told you. I should have - I don’t know. I suck at this.”

She brushes her hair back from her forehead and huffs. “Maybe I’m - maybe it wasn’t like _all_ Garrett’s fault, you know?”

“No. Don’t say that, that’s not -” His hand curls into a fist. He’s not sure if he’s ever hated anyone as much as he hates Garrett, not even his father. “None of this is your fault, okay?”

There’s nothing but silence on the other end, briefly interrupted by a light sniffle and shuffling.

“Lacey.”

His voice is so soft, and she hates herself just a little bit more. “Three more days,” she says. “I, uh, I already bought my ticket. I’ll be home Friday night. Is that - ?”

After a moment she realizes what she said and her eyes go wide. _Home._ As true as the word might feel, she’s not sure that’s something either of them is ready for.

“I mean I’ll be - be back -” She swears under her breath, and rolls her eyes at herself.

A smile splits Rush’s face and he stands, running a hand through his hair. “Lacey?”

She sighs. “Yeah?”

His lips twitch as he looks out the window, the sun almost set now and the moon faintly visible over the building across the courtyard. Home. She called it home. And something feels like it’s changed in that moment. Everything feels more solid and real. It feels like they can do this, like they’ve progressed from a fling and an affair to something bigger. 

“I can’t wait for you to come home.”

Lacey bites her lip and smiles, resisting the urge to kick her feet against the bed. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

She flops back on the bed, still grinning. “I love you, _Nicky,_ ” she says, catching her tongue between her front teeth and barely holding back laughter.

Rush snorts and rolls his eyes, muttering a quick _fuck you_ before answering. “I love you too.”

On the other end, three thousand miles away, Lacey laughs.


End file.
